


On and On

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: After Wedding, Alternate Universe - Real World, F/M, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Unrequited Love, need i say more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:51:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7935232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This doesn't change anything, you know,” Tyler tries to convince. Silk voice weaving its way into Josh's head again. Soft and sweet. “It's just a piece of paper.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	On and On

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry

“It's just the way things are.”

“Josh-”

“No,” Josh spins around, fingers shaking but clutching loosely at his hair. “Don't  _ do  _ that.” 

“Do what.” Tyler answers timidly, hands hanging at his sides. His metaphorical tail tucked between his legs, black ring bouncing reflections across the green bathroom. Grimy and pathetic. “ _ Josh-” _

“That.” Josh answers, spinning back around to face him.  _ Him _ . “I can’t deal with that. Not today.”

“This doesn't change anything, you know,” Tyler tries to convince. Silk voice weaving its way into Josh's head again. Soft and sweet. “It's just a piece of paper.”

“Yeah,” Josh scoffs. Short, and disbelieving, sliding down the tile wall. His black dress shirt clings to his torso; suffocating. “And a ring, and a promise-”

“What else should I have done, Josh?” Tyler snaps, taking a step forward. His hands fly up on instinct too, trying desperately to clutch onto hair; to ground himself. Until he remembers he cut it. All of it. She'd wanted him to. “Should I have left her? I could've just stayed home, kicked back and let her walk down the aisle to no one. Hell, we could've run off and gotten married today. Would that make you happy?”

“Fuck you,” Josh spits, shoulders heaving into dry laughter. “You really don't get it.”

Tyler spins again, his usual calm nature disappearing under an aura of hyperactivity and nervousness. His eyes are open wide, but blinking. Waiting for an explanation. Like a tick just below the skin; a pebble lodged in your shoe. The movement billows his tie. “Josh.”

“I love you,” Josh whispers through his fingers. They’re red from being wrung together throughout the ceremony. He did that instead of pulling out his hair, or leaving. “I love you, and you love her.”

He says it so matter-of-factly Tyler’s stance relaxes. His shoulders slump for the shortest second, but his mouth remains firmly shut.

Which hurts the fucking  _ most. _

“I love you and you love her,” Josh says again, looking his worst fear straight in the eye. He's an emotional daredevil. “She's your home now, right?”

“No.” Tyler replies, almost too quietly. Just under his quick breaths.

“She's your home and I'm your,” Josh freezes, the words fully processed before thrown up onto Tyler's shoes. “She's your home and I’m your  _ job _ .”

“That's not true,” Tyler starts, but he doesn't know how to finish. Usually he'd be on the ground with Josh by now. He'd be pressing quick kisses to his cheeks and to his hands, telling him how much he's loved. Telling him that whoever hurt him would pay, that he'd yell at them, or trip them. That always made Josh laugh. 

But that wouldn't help now or ever again because  _ Tyler’s  _ the one that hurt him.

“Just go,” Josh gives up, hanging his head between his knees. His chest heaves like he's doing the exercises his therapist taught him to do whenever things get bad. (in, 1 2 3 4, out, 1 2 3 4) Tyler remembers hearing about them and being happy for him. Even if Josh wanted Tyler out of his life he would be happy for him. He would never stop being happy for him. “Please.”

Tyler doesn't go. Tyler stays, plopping down on the floor like a defeated ragdoll. “You mean everything to me.” He says, so soft and fleeting. His forehead rests on Josh's shoulder now, tears falling seemingly from nowhere leaving dark black dots on the fabric. “You're my home.”

“Tyler,” Josh whispers into Tyler's hair, tear streaked cheeks heating almost too quickly. It's too hard. It's so hard. 

“I need you,” Tyler whispers back because it's true. Even with a wife and a house. Even with 4 kids and 4 college funds. 

Their foreheads meet before their lips do, underneath the flickering lights and empty paper towel rolls. It's still grimy and pathetic, but it's enough. 

“We can't do this,” Josh pulls back. He regrets it. He already regrets it. “We can't.” 

“I know,” Tyler answers. He knew the last time they'd kissed. And the time before that. 

“She's probably wondering where you are,” Josh mumbles, making not-so-small talk. Tyler knows it must be gut wrenching. He knows it's some of the worst pain he's ever felt.

“I love you, you know.” Tyler reassures. Because that's all he can do.

“I’ll be okay,” Josh answers. “We’ll be okay.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
